Follow
by inugrl21
Summary: She knew. She knew exactly why he'd done it.


A/N: All I can say is I like this idea. Hope you do too.

I do not own the HP universe. If I did, woot!

**Follow**

She knew.

She knew exactly why he'd done it.

He did it because he was noble and heroic to a fault. He did it because he wanted to protect all the people he cared about. He also did it because, sometimes, he could be stupider than her brother.

That's why she loved him. But it didn't mean she had to take it sitting down.

So she'd followed him. Not directly behind, but as soon as she could. And it had led to here. Godric's Hollow.

She crested the top of the hill and stared down into the battlefield. The once peaceful cemetery was now a pile of rubble. There were bodies lying here and there but she was unable to tell dead from living. Most of the forms wore the black cloak and hood of the Death Eaters, but there were plenty of red robes scattered about. She glanced around quickly, looking for a certain face.

A blur of orangey-red ducking behind a gravestone caught her eye and she jolted her way down the slope towards it. She approached the marker and stepped around it. A redheaded boy was cradling a brown-haired girl in his arms. His head jerked up when he saw the motion and his eyes widened in disbelief.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, stunned.

She knelt down next to him, placing a hand on the other girl's shoulder. "Never mind that now. Is Hermione alright?"

Ron swallowed hard, but nodded his head. "Yeah," he finally choked out. "She's just knocked out." He clutched the girl in his arms closer to his chest. "But he doesn't know that. He thinks she's dead."

The kneeling girl's face blanched at that thought. She swiveled her head around, searching for the one they were talking about. "Where is he?" she asked.

He jutted his chin over in the direction of a small church, nestled within a copse of trees. Now that she noticed, she could see several bursts of light coming from the area. She made to rise but the boy grabbed her wrist. She glanced down at his hand than up at his face. His expression was terrified and concerned, but also resolved.

"Be careful," was all he said.

She smiled and stood, ruffling his hair a bit before she made her way to the church.

It took her less than two minutes to reach the building, yet it felt like forever and nothing at the same time. The flashes of light led her to the other side of the structure and peering around the corner gave her a full view of the battle.

There he was, crouched behind one of the many yew trees guarding the front steps. She could see that he was bloodied and dirty from all the fighting he'd been doing, but she could also see the changes he'd been through since she last saw him. He had grown a little and added some muscle to his lean frame. There was a determination in his face that hadn't been there last year and his eyes glowed with some fierce emotion. Other than that he looked the same. Untidy black hair, round wire glasses, and that scar.

She tore her eyes from his face and swung her gaze to his enemy, the one who had given him that well-known scar. The monster, known as the Dark Lord Voldemort, was standing in the middle of the lane that led to the steps, seemingly not caring that he was in plain view. Pallid skin, red-tinted eyes, and slitted nostrils made up the snake-like visage. Pale white spider hands extended from the sleeves of his black robes, one clutching a wand that was smoking slightly from recent and frequent use.

She was holding her breath, praying that the monster would not notice her, when he spoke.

"Come, Potter. Let us finish this as honorable wizards should. Out in the open."

She turned her eyes back to the boy behind the tree and watched the anger swell up behind his green eyes, while he maintained the calm on his face. She had time to marvel at his self-control just before he yelled back his answer.

"Considering the fact that you don't know the meaning of the word honorable, I don't think so." Harry fired off a stunning hex at his opponent before ducking over to another tree. He dodged a killing curse and made it safely to his new hiding spot. The girl released her breath in a sigh of relief.

"Well, then," the monster continued as if nothing had happened, "I suppose your little mudblood friend will have died in vain." The anger welled up in the boy's eyes again. "And your blood traitor friend, too. The werewolf will be next on my list, I think. Pity he wasn't here tonight." The boy's calm façade began to crack. "Than I believe I'll start in on that school. I'm sure your little girlfriend would love to learn what happened to you and all of your friends."

A roar unlike anything she'd ever heard come from anything exploded out of Harry's mouth. He launched himself away from his tree and began firing spells with a speed and ferocity that was matched only by his hatred for the creature in front of him. The Dark Lord was sent on the defensive, conjuring a giant silver shield to block the attacks. It didn't last for long though. Too many hexes were hitting it and the shield burst into flames after only a few moments. He than began to counter some of the boy's spells, dodging left and right. The battle raged for a minute or two longer, and she thought Harry was beginning to weaken when it happened.

One of Voldemort's spells and one of Harry's hexes collided in mid-air and began the phenomenon she'd only heard about. Golden threads leapt up and over the two duelers, creating a dome. A thin white thread connected the two wands, while little beads of light traveled the length of the thread. She couldn't see precisely what occurred next, but the thread grew stronger and strange ghosts began to filter out of the Dark Lord's wand.

Neither of them seemed taken aback by these events. Only when the boy began advancing on the monster, did any emotion cross the snake-like face. Surprise that the boy could walk under all the spell's pressure. Anger that he was unable to do the same. And finally, fear, as Harry approached the Dark Lord and touched the end of his wand to the end of his enemy's.

An explosion of light and noise forced her to hide her face against the stone walls of the church. As it died down, she risked glancing up to see the damage. Where Voldemort had once stood, there was now a pile of ashes. She silently cheered Harry, until she realized she couldn't see him. Panicking, she rushed into the open, glancing around frantically trying to find him.

He couldn't be dead, he just couldn't.

A low groan far to the left of her sent her running in that direction. There he was, bruised and battered, but very much alive. The relief washed over her as she fell to her knees beside him. She lifted his head into her lap and grabbed his hand. "Harry? Harry, wake up."

He groaned again and turned his head slightly. There were scratches all over his face and arms, one long gash on his forehead trickling blood down his cheek, and bruises on his chin. All in all, he looked quite the hero to her eyes. She smiled gently and pulled a handkerchief from her pocket to wipe off some of the dirt and grime.

She'd just finished cleaning up the wound on his forehead when his eyes fluttered open. Slightly unfocused, he gazed up at her and mumbled, "Mom?"

She smiled sadly and shook her head. "No, Harry. It's me."

His brow furrowed in confusion. "Ginny? But what are-"

Ginny placed a finger on his lips to stop his questions. He raised one of his hands and grasped hers, pulling it away from his mouth, but not before he placed a kiss on her fingertips. "I followed you obviously. You didn't honestly think a little thing like breaking up with me would keep me away, did you?"

Harry closed his eyes and huffed a weak laugh. "You know, I actually thought it would."

"Well that just proves it," she said haughtily, sticking her nose into the air.

He cracked one eye open to peer at her. "Proves what?"

"Proves just how stupid and gullible you really are."

"What?" Harry struggled to sit up, but Ginny wouldn't let him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him up against her chest. Laying her cheek atop his head, she giggled at the way he tensed up.

"If it would make you feel better though," she added, "we can call it noble and heroic to the press."

She felt him relax against her finally, just before he grumbled, "I think I'd prefer stupid and gullible."

She laughed.


End file.
